“Can you tell me why you’re here?” the therapist asked, clicking her pen.

“I-I have insomnia.” Bailey whispered.

“Not just that, it looks like.” she said, looking through the papers on her clipboard. “It says here that you have chronic insomnia interrupted by sudden and violent episodes of narcolepsy. Does that sound right?”

“Yes.” she said, still whispering.

“Well Bailey, you do need help, but I’m not the kind of therapist you go to for these disorders with how you stand. You’ve been told before that it can’t be treated.”

“I… I know, doctor.” Bailey said hesitantly. She knew that both Debbie and Ann were just outside in the waiting room. “There’s something else that’s been giving me trouble lately.”

“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m all ears.”

“I woke up with Ann next to me. We looked each other in the eyes and shared the most beautiful hug. She carried me off the couch and we drank coffee and watered plants and had the best day together. The whole month was like that actually. Lucas said that he would cover my work and told me to focus on my time with Ann.

One day, Ann got down on her knee and handed me a flower. Inside the bud was a ring and she asked me to marry her. I cried and hugged her and said yes. It was one of the most beautiful days I’ve ever had.”

“If I may interject,” the therapist interrupted. “That is a sweet and beautiful thing that happened to you, but I don’t see how it’s relevant to what’s happened.”

“That’s the thing, doctor.” Bailey said, tears in her eyes. “It didn’t happen. I think it was a dream.”

“I’m sorry Ms. O’Conney, but I still do not know why I am needed.”

“I’m scared, doctor.” Bailey choked out. “I lived a month of my life and woke up and found out it didn’t happen. I woke up and a different Ann was looking me in the eyes. I don’t know if I’m dreaming now, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh dear.” the therapist said, covering her mouth. “Dear… DRC isn’t uncommon in those who experience narcolepsy or extreme sleep deprivation, and you happen to hit both marks.”

“What can I do?” she pleaded. “I only want to live one life, or at least to know which one is real!”

“I’ll go down a list, and I need you to answer honestly if you’re keeping up with these things.”

“I’m ready.”

“So, the first one. Have you been eating on a consistent…”

The therapist’s voice got quieter and quieter, like Bailey’s ears were being stuffed with cotton. It actually felt like her entire head was being stuffed with it, making it hard to think lucidly. Then suddenly she felt as though she was back in control again and snapped back to reality. She blinked hard and looked into her hands as she flexed her fingers slowly.

“Bailey!” said a man’s voice in front of her. He was sitting in a chair with a clipboard and pen, legs crossed.

“I’m sorry?” Bailey asked, rubbing her eyes.

“You fell asleep, didn’t you?” he asked. “Then I’ll say it again. I’m not the kind of therapist you go to for these disorders with how you stand.”

Bailey gripped the bottom of her chair and began to deeply and rapidly breathe. She looked around at the familiar therapist office. It felt like a trap to her now.

“You’ve been told before that it can’t be treated.”